calm down darling
by ayebydan
Summary: Draco has to face facts. His wife is pregnant. His mother is pregnant. They are demanding muggle chocolate that is nations away and he needs to enlist his father. It is far too stressful! Meanwhile the ladies are at tea. Because really, women have been giving birth of millennia.


This piece comes from hp _bunintheoven [a brilliant comm on dreamwidth and lj with monthly challenges ect GO SEE] ahem. This happened to be a prompt fest and I picked this one here:_ Poor Draco doesn't know what to do! His pregnant wife, Hermione, is demanding some kind of muggle chocolate that he can't find anywhere; and his pregnant Mother (you've read that right!) is angry with his father, who is currently in hiding out in his study._

I really liked this prompt. I tried to mix serious and fun with it. I think it was very fun and I hoped the prompter themselves really liked what I did with it.

Given it does pass the 1000 word mark it will get its time on my fanfiction page. It seems that this place is very intolerant of the art form of working to contained word lengths so most of my work doesn't actually appear here. You will need my AO3 account for that. Same name. Seems silly. I mean, no one makes anyone click on anything they don't like. If you want a 10k epic find one. If you want a little drabble set on the bus seek that out. Plus I find drabble writing keeps the muse happy and makes writing the longer ones easier but hey ho.

Ayebydan XxX

* * *

"Father! Father you open this door or I swear to Merlin I will blast it to Mars!" Draco roars while thumping his first on the oak wood like a brawling muggle. Before he can start a second round of knocking the door is slipped open and he has been bodily hauled into his father's study.

"Keep your voice down, will you? I told your mother I had business in Manchester today."

Draco narrows his eyes, "Coward."

"Survivor," Lucius counters, "You will learn that sometimes the best course of action is to provide space and not make it obvious you are doing so."

"Mother is forty-six years old. A perfectly acceptable age to istart/i having children never mind anything else. She is being dramatic."

"Oh really? Well, I invite you to go downstairs and tell her that yourself son. I assure you that it will go down no better than it would have twenty one years ago when it was your sorry self she was growing in her womb!"

"I would rather not think about mother's womb if that is all the same."

"Oh do grow up," Lucius snaps, "You clearly know enough about them considering you filled your own wife's with seed."

Draco wrinkles his nose and relaxes against the oak, "Really? After everything we have seen and done you are going to talk like that? We have bigger problems. They want chocolate."

"Well floo to Hogsmeade!"

"Not that sort of chocolate," Draco winces pushing past his father and stealing the wing backed chair sitting behind his desk. "Hermione insists that wizards find something we like and we stick with it. We do not seek improvement. According to her this muggle milka stuff is the best and we should seek it out. We were talking about it as we headed for breakfast this morning and mother was earlier than expected. She overheard this conversation and now also has a list of flavours that she wants to try. She already seems irate that I didn't apparate to Geneva on the spot."

"Geneva?" Lucius demands, half spluttering.

"Apparently it is rare in Britain," Draco drawls as his father's eyes narrow, "But we may be able to get more flavours in Switzerland."

"_Switzerland?! I'm not going to fu_-"

"Father! It is what they desire. Now, shall you order the international portkey or shall I?"

Draco watches in amusement as his father stalks towards the fireplace muttering the influence of Hermione on the family. It makes him smile that though his face is scowling and his words harsh Hermione is always _genius miscredent _or _an interfering muggleborn _but never ever words that would chill Draco's heart. What warms Draco's heart is the fact that they go straight to the Ministry travel office.

Lucius already has a wallet filled with muggle bank notes sitting on a bookshelf that has been there since Draco defiantly turned up at lunch one day with Hermione on his arm.

* * *

"I am sure that Draco will get us out of your hair as soon as possible, Narcissa," Hermione starts to try and break the ice. The healer had insisted that both witches needed more sun so they were sitting at a set of table and chairs that the elves had moved into the centre of the lawn with a parasol so they might take advantage of the sun all day. It has been an awkward fifteen minutes of tea drinking and Hermione has always hated silence when unable to fill it with learning or a relaxing book or show of some kind.

"Not necessary. I would rather the work be finished and proper before you go back to your flat. Being pregnant is stressful enough without worrying about painting, types of wood for interiors and such. Don't go just because the flat will be liveable. Wait until it is a home. We are hardly overcrowded. And you are still at work darling. You should not cause yourself more stress than you need to when we can help."

"Oh, alright. I guess. I-," she falls silent. The Manor is difficult in so many ways. It has so many connotations of her past and i_pain_/i even if it looks nothing like it had before. The dungeons have been blasted apart into one large open space. Grimy walls have been plastered over and painted in a dull magnolia. The space now houses old portraits of family members Draco had been forced to memorise as a youth but never cared for and only ever found criticism and abuse from. Other than that there is only some mismatched furniture that Narcissa had brought from her family.

Draco and Hermione do not want it so she plans to keep it either for this child she carries now or offer it to Teddy when he sets out on his own in life. It is perfectly acceptable stuff; nothing dark in a magical way or cursed or linked to anything suspicious. It just happens to be a dark stained wood and Hermione had decorated the studio apartment her and Draco share in Edinburgh's old town in light wood and modern metal assortments.

Still, Hermione has only been down twice. Once to confront her past and the other to more rationally look at the offered pieces. Narcissa is trying though. She was never a death eater. Hermione does not really understand what she was. A tool passed from pillar to post perhaps. Behave this way, Narcissa. Dresses in this fashion, Narcissa. Talk to these people, Narcissa. It only seems that now she getting to be her own person. Well aware that Narcissa always knows when eyes are on her Hermione does not pretend to hide the fact that she is looking at the curve of the other woman's stomach.

It takes her mind back to when everything had become clear about their current situations.

* * *

_flashback_

It had been a shock that when Draco and Hermione had visited with news of their own pregnancy. It was soon after the wedding and Hermione had made it clear across their eighteen month engagement that children were for their future and not for anywhere near their present. Lucius had gone whiter than white and Narcissa had burst into tears before declaring loudly that she was pregnant too. Draco had leapt to his feet before staggering to the whiskey decanter on the sideboard without another word, leaving Hermione sat alone on the old sofa in shock.

"Father should be doing this. Celebrating the fact that his son is welcoming an heir, a child. Now I am pouring it because he looks ready to pass out. I mean, it is not that your old mother but...this is quite out of the ordinary!"

"Don't be like that, Draco," Hermione scolds, "And perhaps stop talking to yourself?"

"I'm not being like anything. I think I am handling things well thank you very much."

Hermione gives him a long look and Narcissa scoffs when he shoves a near full tumbler into his father's hand before sitting down with one of his own for a moment. He has barely taken a sip before rocketing back to his feet muttering about 'tea for the women'.

By the time Draco is back in the room with cups for the women and glasses for the men his father seems aware of his surroundings and Draco has a strange smile on his face.

"I always wanted to be a big brother, mother. I just..."

"Did not expect it now?" Narcissa prods gently.

"Something like that."

"I hope you will play with the child all the same?"

"I wish for nothing less, mother."

"Two of them," Lucius coughs from the corner.

_flashback _

It makes Hermione laugh to remember and Narcissa meets her eyes again, "Just thinking of when we found out about each other's babies."

"Let us hope our children are made of hardier stuff."

"It is okay to panic at such things. It was nice to see Lucius more human."

"He removes the stick from his rear occasionally," Narcissa declares cheerfully, reaching over her bump for the glass of fruit tea she has been sipping away at, " We were shocked enough at becoming parents a second time around. Lucius and I have never done anything to prevent a pregnancy outside of the D-...the conflict, you see. And contrary to gossip we do love each other. It was quite the shock. So for Draco and you to have the same news was something else. We both thought you pair would take your time and that you would want a solid time in your new role at the Ministry before thinking of family. My mother did the same but she never returned to the job."

"If I was not muggleborn I might have waited far longer but well, my mum was older when she had me and muggles don't live as long as us. I want her to be able to run around after her grandchildren and take them places like they did with me," says Hermione, slowly at first and then with more confidence. It occurs to her that Narcissa is simply being honest even if her reality is quite different from Hermione's own.

"Ah, I understand that. I too look forward to running around your child and mine of course. It seems they will be far closer than most with their connection ."

"Yes. Far more like cousins I suppose."

"Mmm. I do hope the boys are away to fetch that chocolate. I could probably accept a substitute but after everything Lucius has had me endure over the years I don't see why I should pretend one is acceptable in all honesty."

"That hardly seems fair."

"Life is not fair dear and my marriage has been nowhere near it. Blacks bow to no one. It was bad enough to find myself married to someone who knelt at another's feet but to then have my sister and cousin do the same. I may have disagreed with Sirius about most things in life but I admired that while he followed leaders he never bended a knee to anyone. Besides I might not like this chocolate either way."

Hoping for a safer topic, again, Hermione thinks of the babies," Have you decided whether to know the sex of the baby? I want a surprise. Draco is not happy about it but I told him that is my uterus and therefore my decision. He can find out if he likes but be best not tell me."

Narcissa outright laughs at that and it is truly a wonderful sound. Hermione dismays that she has not heard it around the old place more often. She suddenly has a need for her child to hear it. Before she had not cared either way whether Draco's parents were involved. Her only cares had been around her own parents and though Draco had taken persuasion she has been adamant since the start that Arthur and Molly Weasley will be known as Papa and Nana. But the laughter makes her think of the peacocks and the abraxan in the stables her children might grow to know and love and be confident around. Magical creatures without needing to endure Hagrid.

"Oh I _do_ like your modern ways. You make Draco take on his responsibilities. As for your question, yes. I-we- have...well it has been some time over the years. I think I am rather done with surprises. I would much rather take the time to prepare a room for the baby and such knowing. Though, do not get me wrong I do not plan to raise this child the way I raised Draco. This child can do whatever they want with no expectations from within these walls other than they try their best."

"Narcissa are you saying it-"

"A girl!" Narcissa half-shouts over the small table dividing them. "A little girl. I so hope that she is interested in frilled dresses and dolls and tea parties. I won't lie! But if not, I will not force her the way Dromeda was. No. She can do anything she wishes! Become a potions master! Write books! Go into government! Play with blocks and broomsticks while rolling in mud and with everything I still have in the attic from Draco's youth. Anything. _Anything_. As long as she is happy."

Tears form in Narcissa's eyes and Hermione gets to her feat and offers her a conjured tissue when needed. Narcissa pets at Hermione's arm and then reaches for the bump, caressing it slowly. "I've made a lot of mistakes. By action or inaction. I hope to do better. Andromeda told me that muggles like 'baby showers'. I would like you to have one. Perhaps at your parent's home?"

It takes Hermione a few moments to digest all she has heard.

"I think that would be wonderful but only if you also accept being celebrated and not just be there as grandmother."

Narcissa's face disappears behind the mask again for a moment and then she smiles.

"It sounds wonderful."

* * *

Speaking French had helped Lucius and Draco but having a bundle of muggle currency did not mean they understood how it worked. Hermione had certainly never told Draco that each nation had their own. How _ridiculous_. A kind man had led them to a place to exchange it and said place had led them towards a store that sold the Milka.

Draco feels comfortable in his slacks and shirt. It causes him great amusement to note his father looks like he may combust at any moment in his own. He imagines that the other man feels naked without a robe but when he notices Draco's smirk he seems to pull himself together and march into the supermarket. It takes the wizard a minute or two to navigate the automatic doors but eventually they enter and find the chocolate section. Draco is impressed by the variety of one chocolate brand and how many others are also on display. He begins to pick up the Milka bars one by one when he hears a rustling at the other end of the aisle.

His father is picking up one of every type of sweet of chocolate the stand has to offer. When he notices that Draco has paused he snarls at him and returns to throwing things into a small metal basket.

"Father?"

"If we take everything then they must like something."

Shrugging, Draco thinks that for once his father might just be on to something.


End file.
